Saturday, August 30, 2014

Thanks so much for having me over to visit today and talk about my new release. When I sat down with my trusty laptop to write a story about love and chocolate here’s what I had to draw inspiration from: My love of writing romance. My own little addiction to almost everything chocolate. A picture of a sexy woman with melted chocolate dribbles on her lips, chin, hands and chest. And a cute quote from Dave Barry about…. You guessed it—chocolate. I connected all the dots and came up with Confessions of a Chocoholic, which is a contemporary erotic romance and part of the Romance on the Go line through Evernight Publishing.

I had a great time writing Lexi and Colton’s story, and hope the readers enjoy it, too.

Blurb

Like countless single mothers, Lexi Collins wears many hats. Loving daughter. Big sister. Sole breadwinner. Freelance photographer. Graphic designer. Best friend. But while those roles are fulfilling, the one thing that eludes her is finding the right partner in life.

When Colton Westmore, the sexy owner of the popular dating site, LoveMatch.com sweeps Lexi off her feet, her chances of finally grabbing that golden ring increases exponentially, but a bleached blonde bombshell threatens to put an end to Lexi’s new found happiness.

Are her assumptions about Colton wrong? And if so, there’s only one woman who can ruin the magic between them, and that woman is Lexi herself.

Excerpt

Colton took the few steps it required to cross the space, put his drink on the table behind me, and took the camera from around my neck. He placed it on the plush banquette tucked around the table. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.

“You’ve been thinking about removing my camera?”

“No.” He dipped his head, and brushed his lips across mine in a whisper-soft touch. A burn started and seemed to smolder between my legs. “I’ve been thinking about tasting your lips.”

Unable to stop myself, I dropped my unopened can. It made a dull thud when it hit the floor beside me. I stood up on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his strong neck, and pressed my lips to his.

His large hand rested between my shoulder blades and the other on my lower back. I actually hated the shirt I had on. Even though it was lightweight, the barrier of the material kept me from feeling his flesh on mine. My thoughts quickly changed back to his tongue as it traced along the curve of my upper lip. He nibbled at me. His hand slipped up to the back of my moist neck. He twined his fingers into my curls and tugged gently at the base of my hair, pulling my head back. He kissed my jaw. My exposed throat. Nuzzled his nose in the hollow there.

“You taste salty sweet,” he said in a voice that tantalized.

Feeling lightheaded, I moaned when he did a combination of open mouth caresses and teeth-nibbles on my skin. But, when he swept his lips up to my ear and drew the fleshy lobe into his mouth, I wanted to crumple.

“That feels so good,” I said. I shuddered in his arms.

“You’re beautiful, Lex.”

His warm breath gusting across my hot flesh and his words were enough to make chills ripple down my spine.

I slid my hands along the back of his shirt, feeling the muscles I had to see. I tugged at the bottom, lifting. “Take this off,” I said in a breathless pant, throwing any pretense of caution to the wind.

Colton brought his head up from my neck. Without hesitation, he ripped the T-shirt from over his head and dropped it. Tanned skin, immense biceps, large pectorals with small, pebbled, copper-colored nipples, and a slab of abdominal muscles greeted me.

I reached for him and fingered the ripples on his stomach before I kissed his flesh, peppering his chest with hot kisses. When I flicked his nipple with my tongue, the muscles beneath my hand and mouth jumped. I lightly bit. He groaned and moved the hair from my face. I glanced up at him from beneath my lashes. He was looking at me with an intensity that shook me for a moment, but I didn’t have time to dwell upon the emotion because he picked me up and sat my backside down on the table. My legs dangled over the edge. My flip-flops took a nosedive.

“Are you sure you want this?” Colton asked.

“What if I said I never wanted anything more?”

He unbuttoned my shirt and folded back the cotton fabric.“What if I said, I know.” It wasn’t a question.

London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.

As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.

Friday, August 29, 2014

First of all, I would like to congratulate my dearest Beckey White for the first anniversary of her blog. It's a great accomplishment and here is for more prosperous years to come! *cheers*

Beckey has been such a great friend and she is very supportive of me and many other authors.

Talking about friendship, I have to share with you about my close friends for the past ... 25 years. :) Yeah, they were my college friends and we're still friends until now. I went to this small college after I graduated from high school, an engineering school. I don't know why, maybe because the subjects we had to learn were tough for us girls, we banded together. We studied together, played together, had diaries together, had our high and low moments where we laughed and cried together, and the result, we are still very close to this day. We always have time to gather in the middle of our busy days, we visit one another's house, oh yes, my family know about my friends' families, just like they know about mine.

That is the best friendship I've ever had. Unlike others who might have best friends in high school, I don't. High school to me was like a nightmare came true. I'd rather not talk about that time. I don't like it. Just ask me about my friends in college, and I will talk for hours. :)

This is originally a Facebook meme but I put here too because it's quite long and I guess it is an awesome way to tell you more about me. :) I was tagged by Kathy Kyle McFarland at that time.

So here are the five things.

1. My family once lived out of Jakarta in a city called Jayapura for four years. I was about nine years old when we moved there and I'd say it was the best years to me. I loved the place where we lived, my schools, my friends, the beach where we usually went on Sunday, the fact that our house was up on the slope on the hill yet our windows faced the bay where we also could see the light from the lighthouse at night. I loved our front yard where we usually played badminton, a teeny bitty piece of soil where I played gardening, and the climbing street in front of our house. The loveliness of the place will always stay in my memory because I visited it a while ago and everything has changed. I couldn't help but cry.

2. I guess I'm not to good in facing changes. I'm a kind of person who can stay long in my comfort zone and I don't mind that. Someone told me that I wouldn't be here if I hate changes, though. Yeah, this kind of changes, me being with you certainly feels amazing and I'm still amazed myself.

3. I'm an obsessed-type of person. When I like someone, an actor for example, I will find every single appearance of his out there. And I will stay with him for as long as I still like him, until I like another person/thing. Some people I've been obsessed with are Elijah Wood, Jensen Ackles, Van Hansis, Richard Armitage, and many more.

4. The picture below shows another corner in my cubicle. Let's see if you know whose pictures I have there, or the kind of food and drink. Heheh. I love my corner!

5. This last one is actually a secret and only the people I allow to touch my head can really feel it. Huh? Hee. There is a small valley on my head. It's covered by my hair, of course. You have to touch it if you don't believe me. Heheh.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Wildlife photographer and cryptozoology blogger Emma Jordan came to Birch Hill expecting to find another urban legend. The rumours of a big cat stalking the woods around this quiet town surely had to be just that - rumours. But when the evidence starts to pile up that Birch Hill really does have a killer cat on the loose, Emma finds herself caught in a confusing game of cat and mouse. And her blossoming relationship with Abi Blakely might just be pushing her further into danger.

Emma awoke in a tangle of sheets to the sound of running water. She sat up, finger-combing her knotted hair, and looked around for Abi. The door to the en suite was open and she could just make out Abi's silhouette behind the frosted glass shower door. Her pussy throbbed, an almost Pavlovian reaction, and for a second she contemplated slipping in there with her.

Then her phone, discarded along with her jeans last night, started ringing. Cursing, but unable to ignore it, she leaned over the side of the bed to grab it. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.

“Hello?”

“What happened last night? Where were you?”

It took her sleep-hazed brain a second to recognize the voice, and a second longer to realize Jed wasn't asking her about her sex life. “Something came up. I couldn't make it out there. Why do you care anyway?” she asked, realizing she sounded rude just a little too late. “I mean, we hadn't planned to go up to the woods together, after all.”

“No, but I went anyway. You city folks, you think you know the woods, you think you're gonna be safe, but you don't know shit, so I went to keep an eye on you. And guess what?”

“You wasted your night? I'm sorry, Jed, but—”

“There was another kill!” he said, almost triumphantly.

Emma stilled. “A cat kill?”

“That's right. Big old deer, just slaughtered and left on the trail. If you'd been out there with your camera like you said, you'd have caught it all.”

“There's no guarantee of that,” Emma said. “But I'd like to come and have a look now, see if there are any more paw prints or anything.”

“Well, the deer isn't going anywhere,” Jed said. “Meet you at the trail's start in an hour, if you can make time for it.”

He hung up without waiting for her reply. Emma swore softly and tossed the phone across the bed just as Abi emerged from the shower. The sight of her wrapped in a mint green towel, her dark hair dripping water down her cleavage, was briefly distracting.

“What's up?” Abi asked.

“Jed just called. He found a deer kill in the woods – the Beast strikes again, I guess. He's annoyed I wasn't out there to capture it all on tape.”

Abi frowned. “That can't be right.”

“What can't?”

“The Beast, the cat – I mean...it can't...didn't you just go see a kill yesterday? Cats don't hunt that often, surely?”

“This one seems to be killing for fun,” Emma said, climbing out of bed. “So I guess I should go take a look.”

Abi clutched at her towel, expression worried. “If you did find it, or get it on film or whatever, what then? What would you do?”

Emma shrugged. “I wouldn't do anything except blog about it. I'm not out to capture the Beast or kill it or anything. But if I do get proof of an alien big cat out here, I want to talk about it!” Her initial lack of enthusiasm at Jed's call was fading away. The thought of uncovering a mystery, even a small one, and sharing the answer with the world, was irresistible. And sure, there would be a mundane explanation – escaped zoo animal, abandoned exotic pet – but it would still be part of the bigger puzzle. That was worth getting excited about.

She went to kiss Abi as she passed to use the shower, but Abi barely seemed to notice. She was still frowning, staring at the bed they'd shared last night as if it suddenly just materialized there.

“Abi? You okay?” Emma touched her arm lightly and Abi jumped.

“No. Yeah, I mean, yeah, I'm fine. I just...hey.” She looked up at Emma, chewing her lip. “Could I come with you?”

“You wanna come see a dead deer?”

Abi smiled. “Sure. Maybe I can make it into dinner later.”

Emma laughed, but a touch of unease crept over her. The feeling didn't make sense, so she tried to ignore it. “I don't see why not. It's probably not going to be any fun though, with Jed there.”

“That's fine. I never expect dead things to be fun.”

About the Author

Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Book Blurb: Ryder Daniels has spent the last year recovering from rejection: his parents couldn’t accept his sexuality and his lover chose drugs over his love. The only bright lights in his life are his younger brother and his rescued pit bull. But now his mother's punishment for his lifestyle has cut him off from his brother he loves so deeply. Devastated, he throws himself into the work of the Pit Bull Foundation he and his friends started.

Jason Mallory can no longer hide the dissatisfaction of his relationship with his longtime girlfriend. When her marriage ultimatum pushes him to break things off, he's determined not to jump into the dating scene. But when a group of injured pit bulls are found on his construction site, he can’t forget the guy who shows up to help.

After Jason adopts one of the dogs, he and Ryder become fast friends—until one night, Ryder lets down his guard and Jason recognizes his desire. Soon, they can’t deny the passion between them but will family differences and ugly prejudices keep them apart, or can they fight to prove that love is precious, no matter the flavor?

Excerpt:

“So? Tell me how it went. First of all, how did he look?”Jason could tell Ryder had already had a drink. Not drunk, merely relaxed and in his happy place.

Jason unzipped his jacket and tossed it on the chair. He settled on the couch, and Ryder, wearing sweats and a T-shirt, sat next to him. Damn, the guy always looked good, but tonight he looked like a male model for a sleepwear ad. The sweats hung on Ryder’s lean, narrow waist, and the T-shirt stretched across his muscular chest and broad shoulders. A wedge of pale golden skin gleamed above the top of his pants, winking at him. Jason chewed the inside of his cheek, forcing his mind away from thinking how hot the man looked. Instead he concentrated on recounting his meeting with Landon. “He looked good. Pissed as hell at your parents. And as concerned about you as you are for him.”

Ryder nodded. “And he agreed to work with you guys, right?”

When he nodded, a huge grin split Ryder’s face.

“That was so freaking smart of you, Jason. I really can’t thank you enough, man.”His lips twisted in a grimace. “So damn ridiculous that we have to sneak around like this. I wish…Ah, fuck it.”He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

Poor guy. “Hey, Ry. It’ll all be good. Things are starting to work out, right?”Jason moved closer to Ryder, studying his profile. The guy really was gorgeous. A frisson of excitement rolled through him.

“I suppose so, but I wish it didn’t have to be this way. It’s so unfair to put a kid through this because they have a problem with me.”Ryder’s eyes opened, and Jason locked onto that bright blue gaze. “They have no idea how hurtful their behavior is to him.”

Impulsively, Jason put his hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “Hey, and what about you? You count too, you know. Look what all of this is doing to you. I know you worry about Landon, but he looked like a pretty well-adjusted kid to me.”He tightened his grip and leaned in. “Who worries about you, though?”

Ryder licked his lips. “I guess Connor and Emily. They’ve stood by me and will always have my back.”

Jason shifted near, pressing his thigh into Ryder’s. “I’m on your side too. You know that, right?”He held his breath as Ryder lifted his hand. Was he going to push him away again? This wasn’t like the night Jason took Ryder home. Jason wasn’t half-asleep, and Ryder wasn’t drunk. Ryder’s warm hand landed on his own, patting it.

That spark of excitement exploded into a full-fledged fire within his blood. Without a second thought, Jason leaned over and kissed Ryder on the lips.

Ryder’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away. “I thought we decided this was wrong.”

Jason settled himself more comfortably next to Ryder. “No, you decided. I think it’s a good idea.”He kissed him again. “A very good idea.”He cupped Ryder’s jaw and brushed Ryder’s lips with his own. “This may be the best idea I’ve had in a long time, as a matter of fact.”

Author Bio: Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending just around the corner. She started reading traditional historical romances when she was a teenager, then life and law school got in the way. It wasn’t until she picked up a copy of Bertrice Small and became swept away to Queen Elizabeth’s court that her interest in romance novels became renewed.

But somewhere along the way, her tastes shifted. While she still enjoys a juicy Historical romance, she began experimenting with newer, more cutting edge genres and discovered the world of Male/Male romance. And once she picked up her first, she became so enamored of the authors, the character-driven stories and the overwhelming emotion of the books, she knew she wanted to write her own.

Felice lives in New York City with her husband and two children and hopefully soon a cat of her own. Her day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass or two of red wine. She practices law but daydreams of a time when she can sit by a beach somewhere and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. Although there is bound to be angst along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.

Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing porn sites in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her wife (still amazing to say that), Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has gone to the high desert mountains and fallen in love. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

When they were young together back in their werecat pride, Bowie and Channing experimented with love and sex, as well as flirting with a threesome with their best friend, Emma. Channing and Emma both ran from their needs, leaving Bowie to break away and find his own life. Now a confident master dominant, Bowie discovers Channing again through a video of a consummate sub, one who Bowie knows he needs to find once more.

When Bowie shows up on his doorstep, Channing feels like a teenager again, all confusion and need. He doesn’t date his own kind, only humans, and he’s not in the market for a full time master. Bowie is impossible to deny, a force of nature, and while both men know they’ll have to think about Emma eventually, now is the time to see if they can get to know, and love each other, all over again.

Excerpt:

The trip was designed to give him time. Time to figure out what he was going to say to Channing Lanier when he saw the sorry son of a bitch again.

He could start with “Hey, you rat bastard. Amazing how you came out after you dropped me like a hot rock.” That would be fun. Or maybe, “I thought you weren’t into spanking and bondage, and your precious asshole was sacrosanct, but now you’re a bottom in the underground BDSM scene,” would work better.

Bowie wouldn’t even be going to see said bottoming asshole if it wasn’t for the flyer tucked neatly away in his briefcase.

Tawny Catnip.

Seriously?

Their Emma was a fucking stripper?

A Vegas stripper? The revue was touted as a classy burlesque show and topless nightclub called Catnip Crazy.

Hell, the crazy thing was that both of his ex-lovers had called him a goddamn perv.

Him. Because he’d wanted them both. Because he’d wanted Emma over his lap. Because he’d wanted to see Channing bound and on his knees between the both of them.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

It's funny how my characters tell me very firmly who they are, what they are and insist I write just that. No trying to change them. It just won't work.

By trial and error, I've now accepted that.

Nina and Dominic were no exception. In fact I wondered at times if they would ever get together, they were so blooming stubborn.

However they had fun trying to show each other whom they were and want they wanted.

I just wrote what they told me to—as you do.

This is the result.

Nina Mack is no sub. So why then do all her senses scream at her to submit to the enigmatic Dominic Christopher?

When the two meet at her friend's hen party at Dommissimma, sparks fly. Their attraction is immediate and explosive, but how can Nina ever allow herself to enter into a relationship with a Dom?

Dominic has lost interest in BDSM since the death of his wife, so the insistent tug of awareness toward the volatile and decidedly bratty Nina is a welcome surprise.

With his inner Dom firmly awakened can he convince Nina to give their relationship a try?

Time will tell if these two can find their own Dom/sub relationship and reclaim happiness.

A wee tease for you…

Nic held out his hand for the keys, and after a brief startled glance, Nina passed them to him. He locked the door and handed them back. She tucked them inside her handbag.

"Why did you do that?" Nina asked once she was inside the car with him. "Lock my door? I've been doing it for years."

"Good." Nic checked the flow of traffic and overtook a bus. "And when we're together I'll do it for you."

"But why?" Nina asked again. "Why not just let me lock up?"

There's that word again.

"I swear the first word you ever spoke was why," Nic said as he turned the car into the street where Dommissimma was situated. "And I bet it will be your last. I agree that to question things you don't understand is a good thing, but by heck, Nina, you'd even question why I asked for dark chocolate not milk."

"No, I wouldn't then," she said in a triumphant tone. "Because dark chocolate helps to control the sub drop a sub might get after a scene. Or a Dom for that matter." She didn't add so there, but Nic could hear it inferred in her voice.

"Good. I've found one action you won't question. I wonder if there's any more?" He stopped the car in the half empty car park and switched of the engine. "Not too busy, but it looks like there'll be enough going on so you'll be able to gauge your reactions. Let me come ‘round and help you out. And before you say anything, that, plus locking your door are just some of those common courtesies we spoke of over the phone. To me I don't do it as a Dom, I do it as a man."

"I might question it, the chocolate. I'd wonder who it was for." Nina said as they approached the nondescript door to Dommissimma. "Seeing as we're not scening."

"Not at the moment." Nic agreed with her. "But who knows when we might need it." He looked at her pale face. "Are you sure you're okay with this? I don't want you passing out or anything." Her pallor worried him. He hoped she wasn't anemic.

"What?" She sounded surprised. "I'm fine, why?" "You're as white as a sheet." "I usually am," Nina said. "But in this case I think it's hunger, worry I might let you down rather than natural Celtic pale skin, and oh sh—oot, I recognize that car." Nina waved toward a dark saloon in the corner of the car park. "Beware of nosy Doms. That's Edan's, and if he's here it’s a shoe in Athol will be as well."

"Why are you hungry?" Nic honed in on her first reason.

"Running late, apprehension, forgot to buy bread, take your pick. And now a crowing Athol."

Nic grinned and kissed her nose. She wrinkled it. "That tickles."

"It'll be directed at me as well as you, anima mia. I've only been around when needed these last few years. And there's no need to be apprehensive. We're not scening, and you said nothing frightened you, just that it wasn't your thing, so why worry?"

"I didn't say it was logical," Nina said. "I can't explain it, there's no logical explanation, in fact no explanation at all. It makes no sense, but it’s how I feel." She bit her lip and gave a deprecating smile. "Stupid or what?"

Nic tugged her to one side of the door. "Not stupid. But I'm going to do my damnedest to change how you feel. Nina, love, nothing you can say or do will let me down." Unless it's let's get out of here, or I don't want to see you again, Nic. "Remember you can safe word me over anything. And a nip just here," he put her thumb and forefinger on the back of his hand, "will alert me if something is bothering you and we need to move away and talk. Yes?"

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I'm often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I'm not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

Author Bio: Lissa Kasey lives in St. Paul, MN, has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing, and collects Asian Ball Joint Dolls who look like her characters. She has three cats who enjoy waking her up an hour before her alarm every morning and sitting on her lap to help her write. She can often be found at Anime Conventions masquerading as random characters when she's not writing about boy romance.

Blurb(s): Misaki “Aki” Itou is a psi—a person with mutated DNA granting him psychic abilities. He’s also a contracted companion—a whore. It may not be the perfect profession, but having a roof over his head, food to eat, and not being subjected to torture is a dream come true. He is the top companion at the Hidden Gem, and it makes him enough money to buy the prettiest, most sparkly shoes he can find.

Shane McNaughton is an Irishman who survived the Third World War and works as a cop. Head of Missing Persons, he’s good at finding people, but after the plague of the Third mutated his DNA, he has a hard time letting anyone see the monster inside. He’s been paying for Aki’s services for two years, both the psi and the sexual kind, but he wants more from the companion.

Shane needs Aki’s ability to see into another person’s past to track down a serial killer murdering the children of rich and powerful men, but the more they work together, the clearer it becomes that they are linked through a darker past than either of them realizes.

Excerpt:

Jack pulled out a file. He took a bag with a thin piece of cloth and glared at it. “This one may still be alive. Ransom isn’t set to be paid until tomorrow evening.” He glanced down to the money. “If money motivates you, we can get more, but know this is a sixteen-year-old girl missing. We just want to know if she has a chance.”

Aki closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, for a moment remembering the one other time he’d done this. The pain had been immediate, a beating gone wrong, a strike to the head not hard enough to kill, but enough to do a lot of damage. He’d lingered, well the man had, but Aki had felt it, suffered for hours while the man slowly bled to death and finally drowned in his own vomit.

One touch would show him it all. The more Aki fought, the more detailed the memories would become. He’d much rather go back downstairs and find a nice old man to jack off for the cash instead of this. Though he’d have to entertain a couple dozen clients to make even half of what was on the table. Then there was the girl. What if she was still alive and he could save her? He hadn’t been much older himself when Bart and Paris found him half-starved and begging for a chance to live or a fast death. Bart had had a brother who’d been psi and taken from them when they were young, never seen again. Sometimes he still looked at Aki with that sorrow in his eyes. But Aki wasn’t his kid brother. He was no one’s kid brother, just an abandoned psi who played the role of whore really well. But where would he be if no one had given him a chance?

He held his hand out for the bag.

“If she’s dead, it will be bad,” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah, well, hand it over before I change my mind.” Aki grabbed the bag from him and carefully opened it. “I’m not contaminating anything by touching this, am I?” Objects didn’t always give him anything, not like people did. He could get everything from touching the shirt or nothing. Aki found that most objects didn’t hold enough life to pass on memories. Good for him, not always good for McNaughton.

Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Bucket List is an M/M erotic novella that tells the story of Kade, a Glaswegian accountant recently dumped by his verbally abusive, long-term boyfriend Niall. Kade’s friends think his relationship has caused him to become introverted and stuck in his ways so, to try to help him, they write a bucket list. Kade isn’t exactly convinced by this plan, but he reluctantly goes along with it, only to discover it’s true: bucket lists really can change your life.

The Bucket List was released by Loose Id Publishing on August 5th.

Blurb

When Kade Doherty gets dumped, he expects sympathy from his friends. Instead, he gets a bucket list. His friends want to help him enjoy life again, but Kade isn’t convinced a list of outlandish leisure pursuits will help much with that. To keep the peace he goes along with the plan and in the process, he meets Blake.

Blake’s Australian accent and surfer-boy looks are the stuff of sexual fantasies and Kade surprises everyone – including himself – when he wastes no time making a move.

Kade goes with Blake into the Scottish highlands, but just as he is beginning to get used to life with his very own Mr. Australia, reality comes knocking. Kade’s newfound happiness falls apart when his abusive ex demands they meet. Blake senses something is wrong and he wants to help, but Kade knows he can’t confide in Blake.

After all, Kade hasn’t exactly been honest. He might feel like a different man when he’s with Blake, but Kade knows he’s still just an accountant from Glasgow with slight obsessive compulsions and a bucket list that someone else wrote. He knows Blake won’t hang around, let alone help, when he finds out the truth.

Or will he?

Excerpt

Kade made his way slowly over to Blake, keeping close to the relative calm of the curving bar. He stepped in beside his Mr. Australia. Blake didn’t turn to look at him.

Kade assumed that, even given the circumstances, it was still acceptable to start with, “Hello.”

Blake turned his head, and Kade felt that warmth he had felt with his back to the fish tanks in the Asian supermarket. “Hi,” Blake said, his voice deep enough to carry against the music.

He turned, opening up his body and inviting Kade to step closer. Kade did. He wanted to, wanted to see if that strange connection he had felt earlier was still there between them.

“Who’s your friend?” Kade asked.

Blake just shrugged. “Don’t know. Just some kid. Art student, apparently. He was a good dancer, though.”

“Not a good kisser?”

Blake looked Kade up and down, taking his time doing so. Kade had always thought the idea that someone could undress you with their eyes was a concept fit only for the cheap romance novels his mum used to read, but he couldn’t think of a better way to describe what Blake’s eyes had just done to him. The words needed to describe how that made Kade feel wouldn’t be fit for polite company. Not that Kade was really in polite company.

“I wouldn’t know. Didn’t want to kiss him.” Blake reached out and stroked his hand down Kade’s right arm, from his shoulder to his wrist. He left it there for a few moments, holding tight, and then he pulled Kade’s wrist toward him. Kade’s hand landed on Blake’s hip, his thumb teasing Blake’s tight, strong stomach muscles. When Blake let go, Kade didn’t move his hand away.

Blake shrugged and wrapped the hand that had been around Kade’s wrist around Kade’s neck. “He’s not my type. And I was hoping I would meet someone else here tonight. I thought it was a long shot, but I didn’t want to take the risk and ruin my chances.”

Despite his recent drink, Kade’s throat felt dry. He didn’t even care if that was a lie. Blake’s strong fingers rubbed Kade’s neck just below his hairline.

“Who were you hoping to meet?” Kade asked.

Blake tugged him in close so their bodies were pressing together. Kade’s hand slipped around to Blake’s back, holding on tight as Blake put his lips to the side of Kade’s neck.

“You,” Blake whispered. They were so close to the loudspeakers that the word should have been lost, but Kade heard that loaded syllable and felt it translate like heat through his body, like he had just stepped into a hot bath.

“Are you here with somebody?”

Kade shook his head. He felt Blake spread his legs. There was barely any distance left between them.

“Then would you mind if I did this?”

Kade turned his head to find Blake’s lips less than an inch away from his own. He smiled and tried for one of those winks he was so not used to giving, and then let Blake close the distance between them.

Douglas Black was born and raised in bonnie Scotland. An archaeologist by trade, Douglas started writing MM erotica as a means of avoiding starvation at university before returning to the genre in 2012.

He’s left his mark everywhere. She’s still trying to find a place to leave hers.

Gage Masselin is a graffiti artist whose life has revolved around his art, and focused entirely on his career. He’s never needed a muse to get his inspiration flowing, so when an unexpected blonde-haired beauty knocks him out of his zone, he knows he’s in trouble.

Summer Davey is just a traveling girl with a gypsy’s soul. The one constant she has is her need to keep moving on. She’s never stayed in one place long enough to plant roots, never mind finding a man with spray paint kissing the tips of his fingers to make her heart beat faster.

She inspires him. He’s the first thing to ever feel like home.

Sometimes the hardest things to find in love and life are the easiest to lose.

Excerpt:

“Isn’t that illegal?”

Gage Masselin nearly dropped the aerosol paint can when he heard the feminine voice. Whenever he was in the middle of creating a tag, he was in the zone. There were no sounds but the constant whoosh of the spray paint can’s nozzle and his rhythmic breathing. No distractions took him away from his art.

Well, usually.

Turning on his heel, Gage forgot about the black and white bandana he still wore around his lower face as a shield from the paint fumes. The material muffled his surprise as he came face to face with the prettiest damned thing he’d ever seen in his twenty-two years of life.

Long waves of golden hair were tied off to the side in a messy braid, falling over her front. There wasn’t a lick of makeup on her clear peaches and cream complexion. Standing in gladiator style sandals, ripped up jean shorts, and a faded band T-shirt, the girl could have been just about anyone.

Except she couldn’t. Gage’s tiny New Brunswick hometown was a blink and you’d miss it kind of place. Growing up in Plaster Rock gave him the ability to know everyone, even if he didn’t officially live there fulltime anymore. Thing was, people moved away, new people didn’t move there.

Instantly, Gage realized what the girl meant. The bandana still covered the lower part of his face, including his mouth. He probably looked like some little hoodrat hiding in the alley, tagging the shit out of the high school library’s wall.

No wonder she thought he was doing something illegal.

Tugging down the bandana so it rested around his throat, Gage offered the girl a shrug in explanation. “Sorry, habit to wear it. I usually don’t have company when I’m painting, so no reason to have my mouth free to chat.”

“You mean an accomplice, right?”

“No, I mean company,” Gage replied with a smile.

“I didn’t realize graffiti had become legal.”

Oh, this girl had balls, or she just liked breaking them. Either way, Gage liked that.

“It’s not. That’s probably why I spent two years in juvenile hall.”

“Wouldn’t be juvie now, though.”

“No,” Gage said. “It’d be the pen. Good thing it’s legal. I’m not looking to spend any more time in a lockup.”

The girl still didn’t look convinced.

“Honest, sweetheart. See …” Gage pointed at the piece of official paper taped to the brick wall. If a cop happened to stop by, all he had to do was refer to that permit. “Gives me the right to be here slumming up this wall with my work. The school commissioned me to do the piece. It’s all on the legal side of things, promise.”

A small hand rested on her jutted out hip. The action caused Gage to let his eyes wander down the expanse of her creamy thighs and wonder if they felt as smooth and silky as they looked. They probably did. He bet she’d taste like salt, skin, and sin.

Shit, how short were those jean shorts of hers, anyway?

Short enough that they made Gage’s mouth a little dry just from staring.

Fucked, that’s what he was, and he didn’t even know her name.

“If you say so,” the girl mused.

Gage couldn’t help but tease. “What would you have done if I said it was illegal? Call the cops?”

“Nope.”

“That’s it?”

She smiled a blinding sight. “That’s it. It is pretty.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

With one more glance at the bare bones of the mural just beginning to take form, the girl turned to leave. Gage was positive his heart leaped into his throat, creating a lump his words couldn’t make their way by.

“Wait!”

The darkened blue of her eyes glittered as she stared back. “Yeah?”

Gage forced himself to swallow the nerves beginning to form in his throat. Nervousness wasn’t like him at all. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother of two young sons, two cats, and two dogs. Between barking dogs, snuggling cats, playing children, and a spouse calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

That’s the best way to describe Jackie Nacht’s stories. She was introduced to M/M Romance through her sister, Stephani, and read it for years. Then, she thought it was time to put her own stories on paper. Jackie began writing short and sweet stories that ended with a happily ever after.

Thinking back to her own book addiction, where there were many nights Jackie stayed up way too late so she could read just one more chapter— yeah, right— Jackie decided to write short romances for young adults as well as adults. Hopefully, they will give high school and college students, or working men and women something they can read during their lunch hour, in between classes or just when they want to briefly get away from the daily stresses of everyday life.

Sometimes the best way to turn your bad luck around, is reach out for the hand willing to help.

Sophomore Shaun Richards could not have any worse luck. The front office ended up placing his locker in the senior wing this year. A month into the year and it hasn't gotten any better. A group of seniors make it their mission to prove that he doesn't belong and gives him a hard time on a daily basis.

While eating lunch alone one day senior, Nash Wilder comes to sit with him. Shaun has had a crush on the senior all year and wonders what the heck the senior was doing sitting with the geeky underclassman?

Excerpt:

Wrong Locker by Jackie Nacht

EXCERPT:

I was in pure hell. As I stood in front of Northeastern High, I could already feel my body tremble in panic. I was barely able to swallow, my throat dry with fear. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I wiped away the stray beads of sweat that showcased my anxiety to everyone passing me by.

Why was I so afraid to walk through those double doors? Oh that's right. The front office had assigned me a locker in the senior hallway this year due to overcrowding. A sophomore in the senior wing? What in the world had they been thinking?

"You get up late, Shaun? Do you need me to start calling you in the morning again?" Wade adjusted his backpack as he came to stand next to me.

Wade was my only friend in school. We had grown up together and were tight as they came. He was protective of me and vice versa. He was also the only one I'd ever told I was gay, outside of my mom, even though I was teased ruthlessly by the jerks who just assumed. I wasn't hiding it, but it was no one's business either, so I didn't confirm or deny.

How could I tell Wade that every day I tried to be this late? That way I might avoid having to walk to my locker in a hall crowded full of jerks that made it their life's mission to put me through hell on a daily basis. If I came in late enough, I would only have to deal with a few stragglers as opposed to the whole gamut.

"No, I'm good, Wade." My voice quivered. I hated feeling this way.

We entered the school together, and Wade paused at the front of the sophomore wing, pursing his lips. "Do you want me to go with you?"

As much as I wanted to say yes, I knew these jerks would be horrible to Wade, and I wanted to protect my one and only friend. "Go on to your locker. We only have a few minutes to make it to class."

Walking away from Wade was a test of my courage. My whole body started to go on lockdown, ready to be verbally attacked, insulted and made to feel like a piece of chewing gum on the bottom of a shoe.

Putting my head down, I turned the corner, heading for my locker. I learned that if I didn't make eye contact with the seniors, usually they would ignore me. I prayed that this would be one of those days. Getting to my locker, my fingers trembled as I grabbed my lock. Sheesh, I couldn't even get the combination in I was shaking so badly. After screwing it up once, I had to try ‑­

spinning the combination out and trying again.

I took too long. The presence behind me confirmed that my day of hell was about to begin. Leaning my forehead against the cool locker, I didn't even bother to try opening it up as my breath quickened.

A fist slammed next to me, causing me to jump.

Blake was there, leaning against the locker next to me with two of his buddies standing next to him. I have no clue what I ever did to offend the guy, but he hated me with a passion and was the ringleader to a group of seniors that gave me hell on a daily basis.

"Why haven't you left yet? No one wants you here, fag." Blake all but sneered at me.

It was the same thing every day. A sophomore wasn't wanted in the wing, but it was more than that. This guy hated me. And I absolutely loathed being called a fag. That was just as bad as a slap to the face. Worse.

There was no point in responding. I'd tried the first couple times, explaining administration couldn't switch my locker and that the sophomore wing was on overflow to other wings. Heck, there were a few more sophomores in this wing too, but they didn't seem to have half as much trouble as I did. Of course, those sophomores were athletes.

Me, I was more on the small side, skinny as they came with stylish brown hair that I used to love but now seemed to be a beacon for these jerks.

"I don't want to see you anymore. I don't care how you do it, but I don't want you walking in this hallway again." Blake slammed the locker with his fist again. The three walked away, laughing and jeering at my humiliation.

I had hoped that it would get better, that these guys would get bored and leave me alone. Yeah, they hadn't physically hurt me, yet. I knew that it was only a matter of time. Things had escalated too quickly in the last month since I had started school.

The bell rang, and I groaned, knowing that I was going to get into trouble for another tardy. Some days it just didn't pay to wake up.

I ran all the way to my classroom and got a stern look from my Spanish teacher before sitting down in my assigned seat. This was the best part of my day. While one group of seniors were jerks, they weren't all bad. Spanish was an elective that students were required to take two years of. Most waited until the last two years but I knew that I wanted to minor it in college so I wanted to have four years of languages.

This period, I got to stare at the back of the football co-captain, Nash Wilder. The man was gorgeous with sun-streaked light brown hair that had a short messy style to it. He was filled out ‑­

with muscles that I would forever lack and a tan I wish I could achieve. However, in my paleness, all I could hope for was a third degree burn. The man was handsome and unattainable. It seemed every girl dreamed he would ask them out, but the guy remained oblivious, concentrating on sports and school.

Glancing up at the dry erase board, I began doing my silent work of conjugating verbs and putting them into sentences. The tension in my body was still there from my earlier confrontation, but a small amount slipped away, knowing that I would have at least a small reprieve.

I was just about finished when Nash turned and stared at me. I glanced up from my paperwork into his puppy dog chocolate-brown eyes, surrounded by long dark eyelashes.

My jaw threatened to drop as he just scrutinized me. What was he thinking? Did I have something on my face? Oh God I did, didn't I?

"You okay, Shaun?" Nash whispered, doing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn't looking.

Nash knew my name? He freakin' knew my name. I didn't think anybody as popular as him would ever notice someone like me, unpopular and not an athletic bone in my body. He also sounded concerned. About me?

"I'm fine," I croaked out.

Someone in Nash's social stratosphere didn't want to hear about all my problems. Probably would bore the guy to death.

Nash stared at me for a moment more before he went back to his work. I blew out a breath with relief that I didn't have to discuss the jerks that constantly harassed me. How embarrassing would it be to admit to Nash the extent of my struggles, while crowded hallways seemed to simply part for him as he strolled along?

Rolling my pencil between my fingers, I frowned down at my work. This year was going to be so long for me. How was I ever going to be able to get through it? Sighing, I decided to try not to think about it as I got back to my work. Maybe in time I would have an answer, but right then, all I wanted was to survive the day.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Ryder Daniels has spent the last year recovering from rejection: his parents couldn’t accept his sexuality and his lover chose drugs over his love. The only bright lights in his life are his younger brother and his rescued pit bull. But now his mother's punishment for his lifestyle has cut him off from his brother he loves so deeply. Devastated, he throws himself into the work of the Pit Bull Foundation he and his friends started.

Jason Mallory can no longer hide the dissatisfaction of his relationship with his longtime girlfriend. When her marriage ultimatum pushes him to break things off, he's determined not to jump into the dating scene. But when a group of injured pit bulls are found on his construction site, he can’t forget the guy who shows up to help.

After Jason adopts one of the dogs, he and Ryder become fast friends—until one night, Ryder lets down his guard and Jason recognizes his desire. Soon, they can’t deny the passion between them but will family differences and ugly prejudices keep them apart, or can they fight to prove that love is precious, no matter the flavor?

Author Bio:

Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending just around the corner. She started reading traditional historical romances when she was a teenager, then life and law school got in the way. It wasn’t until she picked up a copy of Bertrice Small and became swept away to Queen Elizabeth’s court that her interest in romance novels became renewed.

But somewhere along the way, her tastes shifted. While she still enjoys a juicy Historical romance, she began experimenting with newer, more cutting edge genres and discovered the world of Male/Male romance. And once she picked up her first, she became so enamored of the authors, the character-driven stories and the overwhelming emotion of the books, she knew she wanted to write her own.

Felice lives in New York City with her husband and two children and hopefully soon a cat of her own. Her day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass or two of red wine. She practices law but daydreams of a time when she can sit by a beach somewhere and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. Although there is bound to be angst along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.

For Mason, every smile is forced. Every joke represents effort.Bartending stands as a calculated decision to be a regular guy. In spite of his best efforts, life at such an easy pace is painful…because Mason was raised on a diet of crushing adrenaline and fierce, strategical thinking. His time in the Special Forces ended two years prior, but his drive and skill remained the strongest part of his being.

When his skills are needed again, Mason wakes up from a two-year haze and rescues the damsel. Mission accomplished. Victory had.

…Devastation returns.

Mason has no idea how to return to his everyday existence, not after flexing every strength he'd pushed aside. The simple truth is he can't.Balance, he decides, is the key: remain his joke-cracking self with his friends, and indulge in some ass-kicking on the side.

Together with Sofia 'Dig' DiGiacamo, Mason plans to eliminate every point of corruption they can uncover. A life of purpose fills him again, however, the pressure threatens to rip painfully apart as he tries to balance his opposing goals. The turmoil stirs memories of his dishonorable discharge, adding an explosive element to his existence.

Every day he fights corruption, every evening he fights himself. But still, Mason grits his teeth and grins. He's determined to keep his life, love, past, shame, desperate need, and suppressed anger all hidden behind his smiling, regular guy, bartender self. His fight remains an unending circle, and Mason battles on every front.

LEDGER - A Second Chance Novel - BOOK 1

Mother of Two Boys...

My husband and I are blessed with two amazing young men. They are 9 and 11 right now, and both are on very different parts of the autism spectrum. I’ve learned so much by being their mom and feel pretty lucky to have become a part of a community of loving, understanding people.

If you’d like to meet my oldest son, just watch Big Bang Theory and shake hands with Sheldon. Those two are so similar, straight down to the fake laugh when they recognize something is funny.

My youngest cannot be explained. He’s more of an experience, and a joyful one at that.

Romance Novelist...

I’ve always loved to write. I’ve written for newspapers and magazines, also a host of personal projects. Then in December of 2012 I was reading on my first Kindle, gobbling up romances left and right. That’s when I fell in love with Ethan Blackstone, by the way.

Anyway, I was inspired to sit down and write. Less than one year later I’ve published three books, written another and its sequel novella, and started on two more. As of November of 2013, I’m more than 60k words into those two total. Since I’m sure I won’t update this bio for a long time, you’ll have to rely on my Facebook updates to know what’s going on with Kemmie Michaels romances. There are stalker links on my home page.

WILL PARKINSON believes that no matter what obstacles are thrown in the path of young love, it will always find a way to win in the end. He wants his characters to have their happily ever after, but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to come easily.

None of this would have happened if he had followed the advice he was given many years ago. “What are you wasting your time on that for? It’s never going to amount to anything.” He believed it for the longest time, abandoning characters he’d created in his childhood.

He picked up his very first m/m story by a writer named Eden Winters, who was an absolute joy when they corresponded. She asked him if he wrote and he told her the story. Eden explained to Will that the voices in his head would never go away and how he needed to let them out. With that thought in mind, Will put e-pen to e-paper once more. It was truly a liberating experience and one he has no intention of giving up again.

Although Addy’s heart and body bear the scars from his life before he was adopted by the Deans, he’s ached for something he thought he would never find. Until he met Benny. He isn’t sure how anyone can care for someone as broken as he is, even though he wants it desperately.

High school senior Benny Peters has his whole life planned out for him, until a chaste kiss at summer camp opens a new world of possibilities. Determined to erase Addy’s insecurities, Benny works to take away his boyfriend’s pain and replace it with love.

When Addy’s past intrudes on their future, it’s going to take everything Benny can muster to show that no matter what – or who – they face, they belong together.

Excerpt:

Benny cast a glance at Addy, noticing how his eyes kept darting to him and then to the floor. He seemed troubled, unsure.

“Addy? Is there something wrong?”

Addy heaved a deep sigh, then was quiet for a moment. “Do I embarrass you?” he finally asked.

“What? No, of course not. Why would you even think that?” Benny was genuinely perplexed.

“Jackson and Taylor don’t seem to have any problem touching each other, but you act like I’ve got germs or something and won’t come anywhere near me when there’s other people around. I have to wonder if you’re ashamed to be seen with someone like... me.”

“Listen to me, little man. I am not now, nor have I ever been, nor will I ever be ashamed of you. If anything, you should be ashamed of me.”

Addy looked puzzled. “Why?”

Benny slid his fingers through his stubbly hair, then rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke. “I’m not really comfortable with being... like this. I really do care for you, but I’ve never felt this way about a guy— well, about anyone—before, and I don’t know how to handle it. So no, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed of you at all. I’m just not sure how to deal with everything.”

Addy took Benny by the hand and peered into his eyes. “That’s all I needed to know. I don’t want to rush you. If you need time, you’ve got to know I’ll give it to you. I just wanted to be sure that you wanted me.”

Benny regarded his boyfriend. Yeah, hisboyfriend. Benny had never been afraid to stand up for anyone in his life. Why should he be ashamed to stand up for himself now?

“C’mere, little man,” he growled, putting his hand on Addy’s neck, pulling him in close.

Addy’s eyes went wide, excitement dancing in them. Benny licked his lips and then pressed them to Addy’s in a deep, thrilling kiss. Someone whimpered. Benny wasn’t really sure which one of them it had been. He felt his synapses fry. It was the most incredible thing he’d ever experienced. A voice called out, startling them both.

“Benny? Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Benny looked up and stared for a moment at Taylor, who had a wide smile across his face. Benny could feel his cheeks heat up. This wasn’t the way he wanted this to go, but damn, right now he needed Addy in the worst way.

“No, Taylor, not right now,” he replied quietly. Then he went back in for another one of those amazing kisses.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Thank you for inviting me to your blog with my new Hot Ink Press release,

Love at First Sigh

The first thing people ask me concerning this release is about the title. They say ‘is that a typo, shouldn’t it be Love at First Sight?’ No, it’s not a typo (smiles). This book is a duo of red-hot contemporary romance stories, Pina Colada and Handy Hubby Hire. The stories feature a love at first sight thread, but initially it’s huge physical attraction to each other when the couples meet. They sigh with lust and then the romance develops.

Here’s the blurb for Handy Hubby Hire

Tired of the maintenance jobs mounting up in her house, Sara hires a handyman. She never dreams someone like Griffen Fox will show up to fix the faucets and back yard gate. Sparks fly, but will they lose their heart to each other?

And for Pina Colada

When Emma takes a long weekend vacation in a warm beach resort, she meets the very handsome Matt Tyler. They spend an idyllic few days together. Will this only be a holiday romance?

I wanted my male characters in the two stories to be very different personalities and yet still similarly alpha enough to go for the girl they wanted sexually right away.

Matt Tyler in Pina Colada is fun and almost dares the heroine, Emma, to engage in lust driven sex. He also gives her romantically exactly what she needs on her holiday break in the sun. Picture the white sandy beaches, the pale green almost transparent ocean, frangipani perfumed, warm night air and a drop-dead gorgeous man, who wants you…bad.

Griffen Fox in Handy Hubby Hire is visually a bad boy, muscled with a swirling black tattoo and an old truck. He’s capable and calm, but underneath the professional exterior simmers…sex…lust…red-hot desire for the heroine, Sara, as soon as he sees her.

He tells her what he’s going to do. He gives her what she’s longing for and then…something happens to him…something unexpected.

As the writer I like Matt very much, but Griffen, well, he’s an absolute darling.

I designed and produced the book cover using Handy Hubby Hire as the inspiration. It took some time tracing the stock photography of the truck and had other people in it, which I edited out and then I found my couple. I love this premise, with the sexy guy holding his lover up against him and nuzzling her neck. I hope it gives a feel for the originality of the stories, their heroes and heroines that could be you and the sexually charged atmosphere of hot summer encounters.

Read an excerpt of each story

Pina Colada: General rating

Her third floor room provided a balcony that overlooked the glittering pool below, and the warm, azure ocean beyond. Emma opened the sliding glass door, and walked onto the balcony. It contained a tiny white metal table, two folding chairs, placed close to the rail, and a lush, broad-leaved plant growing in a massive terracotta pot next to the door.

She hung over the rail and took in the scene below. Bronzed people lay stretched out on the gaudy loungers that the hotel arranged around the pool. A few striped sun umbrellas flapped in the soft breeze. Even from her vantage point on the third floor, the distinctive smell of coconut oil, and other exotic suntan lotions wafted by. The atmosphere was sun-drenched, exciting, and pungent with promise.

Emma turned to go back into her room and saw him. About a meter away on the balcony of the adjacent room, a man stood silently staring down at the pool. Emma took in his gorgeous profile, his dark hair falling attractively over his forehead, his perfect nose, and his jaw with just the right amount of stubble. She sighed over his muscular body shown off perfectly in his low riding shorts. A Celtic design tattoo snaked on the top of his arm. It looked incredibly sexy, a short sleeve of swirling ink on his muscle. She paused to stare at him.

He looked her way. His dark blue eyes met hers. He held her gaze and something passed between them, a silent appraisal of each other. They both liked what they saw.

She knew she’d sparked his interest from the expression on his face, but Emma, suddenly shy around such a sexy man, stepped into her room.

Copyright Elodie Parkes 2014 Hot Ink Press All rights Reserved

Handy Hubby Hire 18+

Griffen Fox drew a deep breath as he watched Sara walk down the hall to her office. He grinned as he took in the sight of her soft ass in her cutoff jeans. Made for grabbing…she’s made for fucking. Pretty, beautiful eyes, lips that make you want to bite them hard as you ram her onto your cock. Damn, Griff, that’s a little over the top, get a grip, and start work. He opened the front door, clicked up the catch so that it wouldn’t lock him out, and went to his truck. An old F500, he’d covered the tray top and made space there for tools and supplies. It proved a good workhorse. Griffen calculated the time it would take to do the jobs in the house — not long really, pesky jobs, but not hard or time consuming, as in a week, unless he strung them out. He’d be there most of the day and one more morning. He looked back at the house from his vantage point on the gravel drive. It’s a nice place. She seems to live there alone. What’s a lovely woman like that doing with no man in her life? Maybe there is one. Maybe I’ll ask her.

Griffen took his tools and supplies in the house and started work. He hummed as he worked. He thought about Sara too, as he rehung the backyard gate. He liked the way her nipples peaked in that tight, white T-shirt, before she covered them up. She’d gazed hungrily at him too. There was something needy about her that made him want to pick her up, crush her to his body, kiss her tenderly and then fuck her hard. Fuck away that fleeting sadness in her eyes. Fuck a smile onto that pretty face. Have those fingers of hers curl around my cock… have those full lips suck it. Hell, I’m getting an erection. I’d like to kiss her. I like her. I do. I bet she tastes sweet.

He jumped when her voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I’m making coffee. Would you like a cup?”

She stood behind him and he turned. The sunlight caught her hair and lit it up with golden streaks. Her T-shirt skimmed the top of her low riding, cutoff jeans. Griffen stared at the flat expanse of stomach on display as she reached up and plucked a few dead twigs off the young tree nearby. He ran his tongue along his top lip as he saw the muscles in her thighs tighten when she stood on tiptoe. She’s lovely… Her nearness made him shake a little.

“I’d love a cup of coffee, thank you.” He steadied his voice, and followed her to the kitchen.

Copyright Elodie Parkes 2014 Hot Ink Press, All right Reserved

About Elodie:

Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal or suspense. Her books are always steamy — cool stories and hot love scenes.

Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique emporium by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.